


Only for Him

by FleetofShippyShips



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (some mentions and insecurities about 'girlyness' therein), Corset, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Mirror Sex, Mirrors, Post-Hogwarts, Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 23:13:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19778437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/pseuds/FleetofShippyShips
Summary: For an upcoming ball, Draco convinces Harry to wear a male corset designed to be worn under traditional wizarding formal wear.





	Only for Him

**Author's Note:**

> Bafflinghaze over on tumblr made some gorgeous art of them in their robes!! Make sure you go check it out!! You can find it [here](https://fleetofshippyships.tumblr.com/post/186339103628/bafflinghaze-fanart-for-fleetofshippyships)!
> 
> This was from a prompt I got literally years ago, I wrote half and then lost interest, and only picked it back up to finish it recently. The prompt was from an anon, and is the first line of the fic.
> 
>  **A note about the tags**. I'm not sure how to tag it, and I tried, but Harry does express some insecurity and worry about wearing something he considers 'girly'. So bear that in mind and please don't read it if comments about corsets being 'girly' or men wearing corsets being 'girly' (from the person wearing it) are going upset you. 
> 
> This does not reflect my attitudes towards the gendering of clothing, or how people appear in certain clothes, but merely an attempt to write the characters as I believe they would act in this sort of scenario given their canon backgrounds.

“I’m wearing a corset, isn’t that good enough?” Harry huffed, trying to resist as Draco pushed him up the stairs.

“Absolutely not! You can’t just put the corset under any old robes! You need proper,  _ fitted _ , formal robes to show off the effect. What’s the point otherwise?” Draco said, tugging at his robes. “You can borrow some of mine.”

“Yours won’t even fit me!” Harry complained. “Can we just go to this stupid ball? I should have met you there!”

Draco got him to the top of the stairs and pushed him into his bedroom. “It is astounding how often you forget you possess magic, Harry. Really, it’s concerning. Alteration charms. You should study them.”

“Piss off,” Harry muttered darkly, as Draco pushed him into his completely ridiculous, gigantic wardrobe. 

“Go stand in front of the mirror and take off those rags,” Draco said, letting him go and walking over to a rack of formal robes in one corner.

Harry glared after him, but at this point in their relationship, he knew better than to argue. The papers had already talked about how he’d marked Draco down as his extra, so he had to show up, or the speculation would be unbearable.

He walked over to the massive mirror and dutifully took off his robes. In a fit of spite, he left them in a crumpled pile on the floor, knowing it would piss off Draco even though they weren’t his robes.

Left standing in his pants, and the stupid corset, he tried to avoid looking at his own reflection. 

He found his gaze travelling his own body anyway.

Even if he thought it was stupid, he did have to admit it made his figure look good. He always looked so solid, it was strange to see a narrowing like that at his waist. He was sure he should hate it. Hermione had already had some choice words about the practise of anyone wearing corsets anymore. 

Still…

“You like it, don’t you?”

Harry looked up and met Draco’s eyes in the mirror. As if burned, he dropped his hands from his own waist.

Draco made an amused sound and just stepped closer to him, sliding his hands down Harry's sides, over the corset.

“It’s okay to like the way it looks on you,” he said, his lips brushing over Harry’s bare shoulder. “It looks good.”

“I look like a girl,” Harry huffed.

Draco snorted.

“You are so masculine that the idea that a mere corset can make you look like a woman is laughable, Harry,” he said, drifting a hand up to frame Harry’s jaw and shift his head to the side to kiss his neck. “Not that I would protest if you wanted to explore that idea a little further, though.”

Harry felt his face heat up at the very idea. “Is that why you’ve got me wearing this?”

Draco chuckled into his neck. “I just wanted to see you in traditional formal attire,” he murmured, his fingers tracing along the bottom edge of the corset. Harry shivered from the feather light partial touch to his skin. “I grew up around all this. I miss it sometimes.”

Harry groaned. “You arse. I can’t get mad when you say things like that.”

Draco met his gaze in the mirror and grinned. “And even knowing I do it on purpose, you still fall for it every time.”

“I should rip this thing off and strangle you with it.”

“Oooh, yes to the first,” Draco said, his hands resting on Harry’s hips and squeezing lightly. “I like the imagery of that.”

Harry snorted. “You would.”

“Think about it like this,” Draco said. “At the end of the night, I’ll bring you back here and take you out of this. Slowly, in front of this mirror. And I’ll be thinking about that all the way through the ball, to the point it drives me mad.”

Harry swallowed heavily and watched Draco’s fingers drift along the bottom edge of the corset again..

“We both know you love to drive me mad. Will you wear some proper formal robes now?” Draco asked.

Meeting his gaze again, Harry nodded. Draco smiled and pressed a kiss to his neck before moving away to his rack of robes, where he proceeded to mutter to himself as he looked through them.

Harry turned back to the mirror. He was half-hard in his pants, and thankful Draco hadn’t commented on it. He wasn’t sure if that was because of what Draco had been saying, or if it was the way his eyes kept returning to the narrowing of his waist.

The tightness of his chest was starting to seem worth it. Maybe he’d been exaggerating. He definitely didn’t look like a girl. But he didn’t know what else to think of wearing a corset, and had been convinced Draco had been fucking with him. He shouldn’t have indulged him at all, except that Draco was getting better and better at convincing him to do things he normally wouldn’t do the longer they were together.

But the way Draco had looked at his reflection in the mirror, and touched his waist, and the bottom of the corset, showed that it wasn’t a joke. And even if his words were a manipulation, it was clear how much he meant them. He wasn’t invited to most of the traditional events anymore, and only got to go as someone’s extra.

Harry felt a little guilty for not realising it might be important to him.

When he managed to drag his eyes away from the corset, he flinched when he saw Draco had turned to watch him look at himself. 

Draco lips twitched into a satisfied smile, but he turned back to the robes without commenting.

Feeling his face burn, Harry decided to step away from the mirror.

Instead, his hands touched his waist again, and he found himself turning a little to look from a different angle.

He just couldn’t stop looking.

***

“I can’t believe you’re actually wearing a corset under that,” Hermione said with a huff as she appeared at Harry’s side. “It’s archaic, and completely stupid. Forcing an unattainable figure on women, who already have a natural curve, is bad enough, but men? I can’t believe you would—”

“Hey, isn’t that the witch proposing that bill you wanted to talk to?” Ron cut in, gesturing across the ballroom.

Hermione turned and her eyes narrowed. “Yes it is.”

Harry watched her storm off and cleared his throat. His arms itched with the urge to fold them and hide his figure, but Draco had his arm looped around one, and even if he looked like he was checking out the crowd, Harry knew he’d be completely focused on him.

“She’s just jealous of your figure, mate,” Ron said, nudging him in the side. “You do look more… more…”

“Don’t hurt yourself, Weasley,” Draco said from Harry’s other side.

“Piss off, ferret!”

Harry snorted and felt himself relax. He’d made a fuss when he’d tried on Draco’s robes and seen how snug they fit, but like the corset, the more he’d looked in the mirror, the more he’d liked it, even if he couldn't explain it, and even though it still looked strange.

The way Draco had looked at him certainly helped though. For a few moments, standing in that mirror, with Draco standing behind him and holding his waist, he hadn’t been sure they’d even make it to the ball.

Remembering what Draco had said about taking him home at the end of the night sent a surge of heat through him, and he cleared his throat again.

“We should get drinks,” he said.

“I wouldn’t. That tosspot Michael is over there,” Ron said, moving in front of Harry and looking him over. “He’d probably drool all over those fancy robes.”

Harry wanted to cringe away from the attention, well aware of how different he looked in such tight, formal robes. The corset only made the tightness of the robes more obvious as he clearly looked slimmer than usual.

Ron just whistled and gave his own belly a pat. “I wouldn't mind squeezing into one just to look that fit,” he said. “Wouldn’t be worth the marital drama though. Like that time I tried her knickers on.”

Draco made a choking sound, and Harry scowled at Ron. “I thought we were never speaking of that night again.”

“Kind of relevant though,” Ron said with a shrug. 

“Yes, do continue,” Draco said, his grip on Harry’s arm tightening. “Did Harry try on her underwear too?”

“We were pissed,” Harry muttered.

“Almost strangled himself with one of her bras,” Ron laughed.

Draco turned to Harry and raised an eyebrow. “Did he indeed?”

“We were pissed,” Harry repeated, firmly.

Draco’s lips twitched and Harry scowled at Ron again. “Thanks, mate.”

Ron shrugged and gave his shoulder a pat before wandering off after Hermione.

Harry ignored the way Draco was staring at him and watched the couples dancing instead. 

“You know what you would look really good in, Harry?” Draco asked quietly, pressing against his side and releasing his arm to loop it around his waist. Even with the added layer of the corset, the contact made Harry shiver. 

“I’m sure I don’t want to know, and I’m sure it’s something girly again,” Harry muttered, ignoring the flash of cameras catching Draco’s embrace from every possible angle. He could still feel Draco’s hand on his waist, right where it curved in slightly. He couldn’t help but recall how it had looked when Draco had held his waist in the mirror. He shivered again. His crotch was starting to feel a little warm and, in turn, his face became hot.

Draco chuckled and kissed the skin beneath his ear. “I want to see you in things that accentuate your body, Harry. Girliness has nothing to do with it, although your fixation on it is very interesting.”

“I can’t wait to get out of this thing,” Harry hissed.

“I can’t wait to take you out of it,” Draco breathed, pressing another kiss to Harry’s neck and starting up another round of flashing cameras.

Harry turned and caught his lips in a quick kiss. He’d never forget some of the things the gossip rags said about Draco when he was the only one acting affectionate. 

It irked him a little, that Draco was so comfortable in the spotlight even when it wasn’t so positive for him. Harry had never managed to shake off his awkwardness about his fame.

“But back to my point,” Draco said, bumping Harry’s nose before turning to look back out at the ballroom. “Remind me to introduce you to the thigh suspenders I use to keep my shirts tucked in so neatly.”

Harry snorted. “I’m well acquainted with those.”

Draco’s grip on his waist tightened. “Yes, and the next time you tug and make them snap against me, I’ll cast a stinging jinx on your arse so strong you won’t be able to sit down for days.”

Harry just grinned and surveyed the ballroom himself. That threat didn’t scare him. Even if Draco did follow through, the yelping sound he made every time Harry made those suspenders snap was well worth a stinging jinx or two.

They were silent for a while, and Harry watched people hover awkwardly nearby. That was probably the only good thing about Draco’s continued bad reputation. People didn’t approach Harry much if he was with Draco. They also didn’t bother Draco much when he was with Harry.

A win-win situation, in Harry’s opinion.

“How does the corset feel?” Draco asked quietly.

Harry’s face became warm at once. He was hyper aware of it through the way it made his chest tighter. The way Draco’s hand still rested on his waist just made him think of how it had looked in the mirror.

“Fine,” he said shortly. Draco’s hand tightened on his waist, and Harry swallowed heavily. “It’s not terrible. Happy?”

“Not as happy as watching you take it in, standing in front of that mirror,” Draco murmured back. “I didn’t think you’d like it so much.”

“I don’t,” Harry insisted, fighting the urge to cross his arms over his waist.

“Let’s not pretend we didn’t both look a little lower and see the lie in that,” Draco said, turning to look at him. “Really, there’s no shame in this. I like that you don’t hate it. You look good, and you should like that you look good. You work hard on your body, you should enjoy it.”

Harry scoffed. “Just because you love to enjoy yourself.”

Draco chuckled and leaned closer to whisper in his ear, “I’ll be enjoying myself frequently to the memory of you standing there in just the corset and your pants, and the way you were looking at yourself.”

Feeling his stomach twist a little, and a fresh surge of warmth at that memory himself, Harry cleared his throat.

“Let’s get drinks.”

“Try and distract me all you like, I’m not letting this go until you admit you like it,” Draco said as Harry dragged him towards the bar.

***

“Have I told you lately that you are getting really good at this?” Draco said softly.

Harry smiled. “I was bound to get better with you dragging me onto every ballroom floor we’re ever near.”

Draco chuckled into his ear and Harry leaned his head against Draco’s a little harder.

“Why is it you can never admit when you come to enjoy something you once didn’t?” Draco asked, holding Harry’s waist a little tighter. 

“I would have thought that would be obvious to someone like you,” Harry returned, feeling his face heat from Draco’s grip, and the way it just sent his mind right back to when he was standing in front of that mirror with him.

“How so?”

Harry sighed and looked around. Even if they did this frequently, there were still too many flashing cameras. He preferred dancing with Draco alone.

“We’re going to be all through the papers tomorrow,” he said instead.

“Good,” Draco responded easily. “We both look stunning. We’ll raise the quality of every trashy publication we’re featured in. You should wear green more often. It looks so good on you.”

“You just like it because it’s the colour of your house,” Harry replied. It hadn’t surprised him one bit when Draco had dressed him in green. He always did, given the chance.

Draco hummed and brushed his lips along Harry’s neck. “I wish I could wear this green. I keep these robes around just on the off chance I can convince you to wear something better than your standard formal wear.”

“I knew it,” Harry muttered. The robes had hardly needed adjusting at all, and Draco was much slimmer than he was and just that little bit taller.

“This green doesn’t suit pale skin like mine, but you look stunning in it,” Draco continued. 

“And green brings out my eyes. I know, I know,” Harry muttered.

“You have striking eyes. Deal with it. Own it. You think I always liked my pasty white arse? I turn into a tomato if I spend too long in the sun, or I look like a corpse in poor lighting. It’s infuriating. But I wear the right colours and I look stunning.”

“You’re so fucking vain,” Harry said with a chuckle.

“Oh, like you don’t drool over the sight of me whenever I dress nicely for our dates,” Draco returned with a snort. “I see the way you eye me up.”

“I eye you up no matter what you’re wearing.”

Draco groaned. “That is true. You have that alarming fondness for that jumper I have with a few raggedy holes in it.”

Harry smiled. “I love it when you wear that and stick your thumbs through the holes. It’s so…relaxed.”

“You have terrible taste.”

“You own the thing in the first place. If it’s so terrible then, throw it out. I’ll throw it out for you.”

“You stay away from my cosy jumper,” Draco grumbled.

Harry laughed and held him closer as the music changed again. He would still never admit it to Draco, but he really did enjoy dancing now. 

But only with Draco.

***

The rest of the ball passed in a bit of a blur. Harry couldn’t avoid the many requests he got for a dance with this or that person. Being near Draco could only hold them off for so long. But even if he was not by Draco’s side, he knew Draco would be watching him. He’d be watching the movement of his robes as he danced, the way they hugged his waist, the way Harry found himself touching his own waist in between dances. It was a subconscious action. The moment he noticed he was doing it, he’d let his hand fall away as if burned.

When they finally left, and stepped out of Draco’s Floo, the corset felt three times too tight.

Draco stepped close and brushed soot off his robes, first his shoulder and then his waist. The contact made Harry shiver and lean closer.

“Care for a drink?” Draco asked softly, his lips a gentle brush against Harry’s jaw.

Harry closed his eyes and shivered. He was still warm from the few glasses of wine he’d had at the ball. Having more would be unwise.

“I should go home,” he said instead, even as he tilted his head away so Draco could mouth at that spot below his ear.

“Nonsense,” Draco huffed. “If you think I’m letting you take those robes into that hovel of a flat of yours, you don’t know me at all.”

They still stood in the Floo reception room, but Harry’s mind drifted upstairs. To Draco’s ridiculous wardrobe and that very big mirror. To Draco’s words about undressing him. 

The thought filled him with heat at the same time as a shivery, nervous sensation. He’d have to look at himself in the mirror again. 

After thinking about it all through the ball, he couldn’t deny his reaction any longer. 

“I suppose you can help me out of this corset too,” he whispered, his voice dropping as if they weren’t alone. “It was hard enough getting into it in the first place.”

Draco hummed into the side of his neck and gently squeezed Harry’s waist. “That was never in doubt of happening. I’d like to see you try and stop me,” he challenged.

Stubbornness welled up in Harry, but then magic twisted around them and he stumbled forward, reaching out to support himself. When he looked up, he was looking at his own reflection.

“Too lazy for the stairs?” he quipped, finding it hard to breathe as he looked down the length of his own body.

It was impressive that Draco had managed to change their position mid-Apparition, but it was swiftly forgotten. Draco was standing behind him with his hands still on Harry’s waist and his lips brushing behind his ear.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “I’m going to hunt down some of those photographers and frame the images in better quality than they’ll ever be in the papers.”

Harry licked his lips and tried to think of something to say as Draco’s hands slid down to his hips. It was difficult. Draco’s words about undressing him just went around and around in his head. Even without the fancy robes and corset, that wasn’t really something they did. They normally tore off their own clothes in their desperation to get at each other. 

In fact, the slow pace he already knew this would have was strange and a little nerve-wracking.

“You’d think the papers would have better things to report than my latest outfit and our latest display of affection.”

Draco made a soft sound and pressed his nose into the hair behind Harry’s ear. “Do you have any idea what it does to me when you kiss me back in front of them?” he whispered.

Harry swallowed as he watched Draco’s hands shift from his hips up to the buttons of his robes. Slowly, so slowly, Draco undid them one by one, kissing the side of Harry’s neck, one kiss for each button.

“I have a feeling you’re going to show me,” Harry said, for lack of another way to voice the mess inside him.

He knew damn well. Just as he knew what the papers would say if he didn’t kiss Draco back, and how, despite his arguments to the contrary, those words would shake Draco’s seemingly unshakable confidence.

Draco hummed and slid his hands inside Harry’s open robes. Even through the fabric of his shirt and corset, Draco’s hand felt hot. Harry still shivered anyway as Draco paused above the dip in his waist.

“This does things to me too,” he said, before reaching up and pulling the robes from Harry’s shoulders. They fell to a puddle on the ground, and Harry felt an odd pang of loss when the shirt underneath didn’t show off the shape of the corset nearly as well. “Seeing you in traditional attire even though you never hide how much you hate all those stuffy traditions.”

The buttons of his shirt slowly surrendered to Draco’s hands. There was a kiss to his neck for each of those too. Harry’s hands felt useless at his sides, but then, what could he do? He knew Draco would slap his hands away if he dared to try and speed him along or help him out.

Draco was giving him a message with this. It went beyond the corset, and Harry wasn’t as ignorant of it like he was pretending to be. They’d been heading towards this for a while. Even if they hadn’t yet  _ said _ it.

“Remind me to buy you some better fitted shirts,” Draco mumbled into his neck, watching his own hands in the mirror. “Ones that go with corsets.”

“You’re not getting me in this again,” Harry said, more from habit than anything. If he looked down, he’d see the result of all that heat building in him. The trousers that he was wearing were unforgivable in that regard. He’d been lucky the robes were looser below the waist or he would have really given the reporters something to write about.

Draco chuckled softly as he slid the shirt off Harry’s shoulders to join the puddle of his robes on the floor. 

It must have been irritating him, to leave them there, but if he wasn’t going to stop to drape them more neatly over a chair or something, Harry sure wasn’t going to suggest it.

Not now that he was looking at the corset again.

It looked good with just the fitted trousers, even if there was nothing left to the imagination and his arousal was obvious. Draco usually never let it get that far without touching him and making some quip about how quickly Harry hardened for him, but Draco’s hands stayed above his hips. They moved up and down his sides and then settled again over the dip the corset created at his waist. His mouth was hot and open over his shoulder. Harry shuddered and leaned back against him.

“How do you always know what I like before I do?” he whispered, finally giving up on the game.

Draco squeezed his waist and Harry closed his eyes.

“I love that you think that’s what happens,” Draco said. “Open your eyes.”

Harry didn’t have time to consider whether he should, his eyes flickered open and found Draco’s in their reflection. Draco smiled softly at him, gently. “It doesn’t make you girly. It just shows off your figure. Am I girly for always wearing one to high class events?”

Harry snorted before he could stop himself. Draco grinned and gave his waist another squeeze.

“You have a natural little dip there anyway,” Harry said, bringing a hand to knock away one of Draco’s and hold where the corset gave him shape.

Draco hummed and gripped Harry’s hip with his free hand, pulling him back until Harry could feel the press of his cock against his arse.

“Do I feel like a girl?” Draco asked, sliding his hand down from Harry’s hip to suddenly curl around his cock through his trousers. “Do you?”

Harry’s breath left him in a soft groan.

“Stop thinking and just enjoy the feeling of looking good,” Draco said. “Unless you are having serious concerns about this, and then we can talk about it instead.”

Harry shook his head and turned his head back. It was an awkward angle, but Draco kissed him like he wanted. He didn’t let him go. In fact, he squeezed him harder and Harry moaned into the kiss.

“I’m going to leave the corset on you,” Draco said as he broke the kiss. He looked over Harry in the mirror and the intensity of his expression made Harry shiver. “The rest can go.”

With barely any time to protest, not that he was sure he wanted to protest, Harry found himself naked below the hips in a rush of magic. 

The increase in pace made his heart beat a little faster, and his cock ache all the harder between his legs. That was more familiar, and he couldn’t help a smug little thrill that Draco was losing his patience a little.

“Do you need me to loosen it a bit?” Draco asked him, bringing both hands to his waist and knocking Harry’s away in the process. “Breathing okay? You did it up very tight.”

Harry shook his head. After spending so long in it, he was starting to enjoy the tight grip of it. It was somewhat similar to when Draco refused to get off him after sex, lying there so heavily and restricting his breathing.

“Is it not meant to be this tight?” he asked, pulling Draco’s hands away and looking at the dip of his waist. He’d just kept going until he’d seen a change in shape. That was what it was for, after all.

“Depends on personal preference,” Draco said, freeing his hands from Harry’s and sliding them down his back. “I don’t need mine so tight, but then, I have a bit of a natural dip in my waist anyway. Or, have bigger hips. Whichever. You’re like a square normally, so you would need it tighter to get some shape.”

Harry bit his lip. “Do you...prefer it this way?”

Draco slid his arms around Harry’s body and pulled him back into a tight embrace. “Idiot, do you really have to ask? I didn’t see you in a corset before dragging you into my bed.”

“That wasn’t how we started,” Harry muttered under his breath.

Draco hummed and Harry felt the whisper of a spell against his shoulder. The fabric against his arse disappeared and he shivered and rocked his arse back to brush against Draco’s skin. 

“Well, either way, I didn’t even have time to  _ look _ at you, much less form an opinion about the shape of your waist. We didn’t even get our robes off, let alone anything else. Your bloody trouser button scratched the back of my thigh, remember? Left a red mark.”

Harry snorted softly, determined to ignore the small amount of tension he felt release at the confirmation Draco didn’t prefer the unnatural shape. “Anything leaves a red mark on your pasty skin.”

“Pssh, you love it,” Draco chuckled. “Don’t think I don’t notice you staring at me and taking your handiwork in before I let you know I’m awake.”

Harry turned his attention away from the amusement in Draco’s expression in their reflection to where Draco’s pale skin stood out against the dark fabric of the corset.

“Corset stays on then,” he said, even though Draco hadn’t been asking.

Draco tightened his grip on him for a moment, and then slid his hands down to Harry’s hips. 

“I can’t decide how I want you,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve been thinking about it all night but it’s all too good. I want to fuck you in front of your reflection. I want to ride you and look down at you. I almost want to put the robes back on you and take us back to those frantic early days when we couldn't stop long enough to even get undressed.”

Harry licked his lips and reached out to brush his fingers over their reflection. “We broke the mirror last time,” he reminded him.

Draco curled a hand around him and Harry jerked into it. “Don’t remind me. That was an heirloom. And it was fortified.”

It was unfair, Harry thought, that he couldn’t feel Draco’s cock. The corset was in the way. He liked standing like this with him, feeling it against his lower back like a promise.

He slid his hand down the front of the corset, inhaling as deeply as he could and shivering at how it felt like the corset tightened around him. He’d spent a lot of time thinking about how things might go too.

At least he was better at making decisions than Draco.

He turned around and put his hands on Draco’s hips, hard enough to leave little red marks Draco would make a false fuss over in the morning.

“I have an idea,” he said, leaning close and bumping their noses before kissing him.

Draco made an interested sound into his mouth and grabbed at Harry’s arse. He pulled him close, until Harry was rocking against his upper thigh. Harry almost got lost in it, but the tighter feel of the corset the more his breathing changed reminded him, and he turned them around and stepped back.

“Lie down,” he said, fumbling through the pile of robes until he found his wand. He cast a cleansing charm on himself and then slicked one hand.

Draco made an excited sound as he got down on the ground without complaint. “I like where this is going.”

Harry snorted as he straddled his hips and looked at their reflection in the mirror. “You’d like where it was going even if it was only sloppy hand jobs.”

Draco reclined back on his elbows and winked at him. “Only for you. Let me do that.”

Harry slapped his hand away when he tried and slipped a finger into himself instead, reaching behind so he could still see his body easily in the mirror, even though it was awkward and hard to reach even bracing himself with his other hand. 

“You’ll take all night,” he complained. “Or you’ll get me off before we get anywhere.”

“I like fingering you, idiot,” Draco muttered. “The sounds you make, good god. I sometimes think you like my fingers more than my cock.”

“Well, they are so lovely and long,” Harry joked, slipping a second finger in and sighing when he relaxed easily around it. Even though he didn’t want to waste time, he couldn’t help but move them around a bit until he brushed that spot.

“Like that,” Draco breathed, hands on Harry’s hips while they jerked a little.

Harry opened his eyes, unaware they’d closed, unaware he’d even made a sound. He first saw himself in the mirror, back arched as he reached behind himself. The bottom of the corset had lifted slightly from the stretch and the flash of his abdomen sent a strange, hot thrill through him.

When Draco slipped his fingers under a moment later to touch him there, he shuddered and jerked his hips forward again.

“Keep watching the mirror while you do this,” Draco said, slipping his hand back down to Harry’s cock and giving it a gentle stroke. “The look on your face is unbelievable.”

“You just like that you’re no longer the only one who gets off on watching himself,” Harry snorted, grabbing his wand and casting a lubrication spell on Draco’s hand and then his cock.

Reaching down was a little more difficult than usual, the stiff corset very unforgiving, but he managed, as he tossed his wand to the side and started inching down onto Draco’s cock.

Draco groaned and dropped his head back onto the floor. “I forget how this feels when I haven’t fingered you into incoherency first.”

Harry bit his lip and groaned as he settled. He’d forgotten too, but the slight burn was a good counterpoint to the ache in his cock. It reminded him of the early days, before they’d started fucking in an actual bed. The urgency and desperation in what had started as something purely physical.

They were so far beyond that now, even if they’d never said a word about it to each other.

He looked at the mirror again, at himself. At the corset he would no doubt wear again, perhaps even outside of an event that would excuse its presence. 

Maybe under his Auror robes one day to surprise Draco with once his shift was over.

“I love the way you’re looking at yourself,” Draco breathed, one hand moving on Harry’s cock and the other resting on the bottom of the corset. 

Harry looked down at him and started to move. Draco’s mouth dropped open in a moan, but he didn’t stop looking at him. 

Harry envied his ease. That he could so easily reach and touch Harry’s torso while he did this. Harry had to curl up until his shoulder blades didn’t touch the ground to do the same to Draco if their positions were reversed. Draco loved to poke fun at his short arms every time he tried to reach higher than his navel.

They didn’t look short when he looked back at the mirror. Or maybe it was impossible to notice when all he could see was the corset, the way it changed his shape and Draco’s pale hand resting on it.

The more he moved, the louder he gasped and moaned, the tighter it felt. It quickened things along. Heightened his awareness of his own movements, his own breathing, the sounds he was making. It kept his eyes on their reflection.

Pleasure built and pooled and everything tightened until he felt like he was going to suffocate or explode from it.

When he finally did look down at Draco again, he saw Draco’s attention fixed on his face. His expression said more than just how good Harry felt on his cock. It had been saying a lot more for a while now. It sent a softer warmth curling through Harry, deeper than everything else and he came moments later, watching Draco and not his own reflection.

As he shuddered over him, slumped down until Draco slipped out of him, he found Draco’s lips and kissed him even though he could barely breathe.

He could feel Draco reach down between them to finish himself off. Harry normally didn’t stand for that, always insisted he do it, but still gasping in smaller than normal breaths, he let it happen, let Draco moan into his mouth when he came and then roll them until Draco was a familiar crushing weight on top of him.

“You somehow manage to trap me no matter how we do things,” Harry observed breathlessly as Draco looked down at him.

“It’s to stop you from running off and ruining the afterglow,” Draco snorted, dropping his head to mouth lazily at Harry’s throat.

Harry tilted his head back and sighed, curling his arms around Draco’s back and holding him even closer.

“Oh, I stopped doing that a long time ago,” he said, feeling other words bubbling up. He pushed them down.

Not yet. Soon, but not yet. Not after sex.

Draco hummed into his neck and suddenly the pressure around Harry eased as the corset vanished. 

He sucked in a deep breath, only hampered now by the weight of Draco on top of him.

Draco bumped their noses for a moment before kissing him, softer and slower than before.

“Thank you for indulging my love of traditional attire,” he said softly against Harry’s lips when the kiss was over. “I know you hate all those stuffy traditions, but you tried it anyway. That means a lot to me.”

“Only for you,” Harry replied with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, I feel like this would all be expected from Harry's upbringing to have an association that corsets are for women, while Draco has grown up with male corsets being a very accepted and common thing among the elite he's part of so he has no gender associations for them at all (at least, when fashion favours fitted robes, which I'm sure would come and go as fashion does). I wasn't sure how to tag any of that, sooo, hopefully my a/n at the top was enough.
> 
> I mean, end of the day, it's just a smutty oneshot with a corset, soooo
> 
> Make sure you go check out the art linked in the opening a/n! It's so gorgeous!
> 
> **This is a completed work and I will not be writing more. Please do not ask me to write more or otherwise mention 'sequel' in the comments.**


End file.
